Chapter 2

The next day, April was up early. One of the downsides of using a convention to flush out a target was that someone actually had to run a convention, and given she was posing as someone with responsibilities, she had to be seen actually fulfilling those responsibilities. Particularly when the mark expected to see her doing so. So, in effect, April had painted herself into a corner where she actually had to do the duties of a conference runner. Which meant early meetings with the volunteers, coordinating events, talking to the hotel management about event management, all the while keeping an eye out for Chris Morgan.

But first, because this was a mission, there was a phone call to make. She made it to the situation room at Ingrams Headquarters, in Washington, even though it was still late at night there. She knew Jessica would be there, waiting for news.

“We found him!” April said, the moment Jessica Ingrams got on the line. “It worked!”

“Well done, April. I never doubted it would. You come through again. Congratulations,” Jessica was always subdued and never got excited. “Now, what’s the situation? Give me the specifics.”

“He came to the badge pickup. He’s using an alias, ‘Chris Dawson’. He looks pretty much as we expected. Looks well. I made direct contact, we shared a beer and a cigar. He’ll be looking for me today, because he thinks I can introduce him to one of the stars of the show.”

“Can you?” asked Jessica, mildly interested.

“Sure,” responded April.

“Okay, so we know he’s going to be there for the duration of the weekend?”

“I think that’s likely. I’m going to try and give him a reason to stick around, and try and get myself into his life a bit, at least to see what makes him tick.”

“April, that’s not the mission. We had to find him. We did. You are pretty much done.”

“Right, but still, Jessica,” counted April. “We spent all this money. We found the guy. Let’s at least get an idea of why he’s doing what he’s doing, right? I mean, there’s got to be a reason. We could at least try and help him? It’s what we do, right? The bill is being paid, regardless.”

April could almost hear Jessica weighing up the pros and cons. She knew April had to stick close with Chris Morgan for at least a few days, so in that case...

“Okay, well, I’ll tentatively give it my blessing, until two days after the conference ends. At that point, the client is responsible. We’ve done our part. But until then, go ahead, see what you can figure out is his motivation. Being able to hand that to the client at the same time would be even more a feather in our cap.”

“Gotcha, Boss,” replied April, pleased she was going to get the chance to actually do what she was paid to do.

“April?” said Jessica.

“Yes?”

“Be careful. I worry about you.”

“I got this. Don’t worry yourself. I’m being careful, you know it.”

And with that, the call was done, and it was time to get the conference running.

Running a conference is hard work. You have to be ‘on’ the whole time. Cheerful, upbeat, a problem solver, know everything about where everything has to be at all times, and make decisions on the fly you really have no business making, but there’s no one else to do it.

It was nonstop, and April was on her feet the whole time, walkie talkie blaring every five minutes with something new for her to be dealing with. She barely got breakfast, and spent a lot of the time looking around, waiting for Chris Morgan to appear, while also dealing with the business of the conference. Talia was in her element too, enjoying the hell out of the whole experience, meeting actors, writers, producers, uber fans of the show. Since the mission had already been accomplished, she was relaxed and on form.

April was also astonished by both the good will generated by all the fans, and their commitment to a fifty-year-old British TV show. The costumes, - cosplay, she had learned, was the word, - was amazing. Some fans had obviously spent months and a fair bit of money recreating some of the aliens from the show, lots were dressed as one of the various people who had played the title role, and some of the women, she was both amused and gratified to see, had their own female versions of the same costumes. So many were dressed, at least forty percent of the convention goers.

It was a full morning, and right on time at midday, she saw Chris Morgan, weaving his way towards her, while she stood outside the main convention hall, talking with one of the volunteers, who wanted to know how many speakers were expected for the speaker dinner that night.

She looked up and caught his eye, and right at the moment she did, she felt her heartbeat quicken. It was enough for her to know that, as she suspected from her reaction the night before, her interest in this man was beyond just beyond a target. She had reviewed her own reaction, and understood it for what it was, - this was her kind of man. Serious, smart, clever, confident, funny, and a man for whom action was a second nature. This man did things, made things happen. He was right up her street.

But. She was also a full field agent for Ingrams and Associates. She was something herself. This was her job and she was good at it, and by god, she was not going to allow an involuntary emotional response to stop her doing it. Rationality over emotion was the purview of an evolved being, and she was evolved. She could feel, for sure, and you never ignore your feelings; she knew that better than anyone. But that didn’t mean that feelings should dictate actions either.

Of course that was all well and good and intelligent and rational but here he was and, oh my god, he really smelt good!

“Hi...” he said, hesitantly. She could see he was still thinking over the events of the night before. An intelligence captain, intent on some mayhem involving a corporate client, a man who had literally killed people with his bare hands, and here he was, all tongue twisted over a kiss with her the night before. It would have been so cute if she wasn’t in exactly the same state of mind.

“Hi. Can you give me a second? Just want to finish this,” she replied, gesturing at the volunteer and hoping to god he didn’t pick up on her heart rate on the beat in her neck. She was doing her level best to lower that beating heart, - it was very unprofessional and she was doing everything she knew to be calm.

“Sure,” he answered, looking round and taking in all the people moving around, in costumes and not, genuinely interested.

She finished her conversation, sent the volunteer on her way, and turned to him.

“Right. Hi. Again. Okay. Lunch. Did you get to any sessions this morning... ?”

She turned to walk towards the area where all the sandwiches and drinks were laid out, and being snapped up by hungry conference goers. She watched a cyberman pick up a wrapped sandwich, look at it, and put it in a bag. Given the full head mask, it wasn’t going to be eaten any time soon, that was for sure.

“I caught a couple. That one with the director of...”

They walked to the lunch area, conversing like longtime friends, and even April had to admit it was eerie how comfortable she felt with this man. He was making it very easy for her, and she had to wonder if that was intentional. For sure, she was giving all the ‘I’m available and interested’ signals, but he was responding too ... earnestly, she felt. He was either playing a game with her, or, worse still, genuinely felt those feelings, which was great for her in the short term, but potentially problematic in the longer term. If she was going to help this man, she couldn’t do it if he thought he was in love with her. That would devalue all that she could offer, since it would be perceived in the wrong manner.

They got a sandwich, and then April, as promised, took Morgan to a private dining area, where he was introduced to both Peter Davison, Doctor number Five, Sylvester McCoy, Doctor number Seven as well as two writers, three directors, and the old show runner, Steven Moffat. Morgan was quite overwhelmed and kept saying how great it was, meeting them, and in general what an honor this was.

At one point, he made a speech to Steven Moffat, that April listened to and lots clicked into her place for her.

“So, yeah, I just wanted to say thanks for doing it all, you know? For making it, for caring, for making thought provoking stuff.”

Moffat nodded, while sipping his soft drink. He didn’t talk much to people he didn’t know, but he was listening.

“The thing is, Doctor Who means a lot to me. I grew up with my elder brother, who was a LOT older than me, and my parents, well ... they just weren’t that interested in me. It’s not like they ignored me, just, they didn’t do that much parenting you know? They were both faded hippies and I don’t think they really knew how to parent. Like my brother before me, I was kinda left to my own devices. I was never really given rules for living, hell, we didn’t even have a curfew. So I watched a lot of TV. I grew up watching TV shows and learning from them, you know? Starsky and Hutch, The Hulk, The A Team, and then I discovered Doctor Who on PBS. Man...”

Morgan stopped to have a drink himself, looking into the past. Moffat noded again, smiling. He knew that look. He’d had it himself more than once.

“It was like morality play, father wisdom, excitement and outer space, all wrapped up in twenty-five minute episodes. I learned so much from that show. How to be a better human. What responsibility means. What it means to care. How to treat those who are different. How to look for the best in people. Just ... everything I didn’t get from my parents at all. I mean, yeah, the walls and doors wobbled and the special effects were laughable, but the stories, the stories ... the people, the imagination. It just ... really affected me.”

There was another pause. More than just Moffat were listening now and Morgan continued.

“I joined the army because of it, you know? I thought that was the best way to get out there and see the world. Of course it wasn’t, but for a guy who had no other options ... I learned how to lead there. How to take care of others. How to treat others. But it was all fed by what I learned off that TV show. That and Star Trek. That was good too. But still, this show really affected me as a kid. Not normally what an ex-military man would tell you, but there is it. That’s why when my friend April here said she could introduce me to you guys, - you guys who did it. Who made this a reality ... I had to do it. Just to tell you what you did. When I heard it was coming back, after fifteen years of not being made, I was scared, let me tell you. But then it came back and it was exactly the same in terms of who the character is, what he stands for. I just...”

Morgan actually blinked a second, then carried on, slightly quieter.

“I just wanted you guys to know what you did matters to people. It may only be a TV show about a guy who travels in a blue box, but for some kids, it’s everything they aspire to be. It sure was for me. And it still it. I still try and live my life the way the Doctor does. When you see something you can change, and should change, then you must. As Rose says, ‘it’s a better way to live’.”

That last statement suddenly made a few things click in April’s mind. For Morgan, his crusade against their client was absolutely that, - a crusade. He believed. She didn’t know what he believed yet, but this was a holy matter for him. An evil to be fought, and he was doing it the way he’d been trained to do it.

That made it a lot harder to deal with. Persuading a zealot they are wrong was the hardest thing to do with anyone.

Morgan stopped speaking and suddenly looked around, conscious that everyone in the room besides him and April were both part of the show he was talking about, and also giving him their full attention.

Peter Davison stood and walked over and put his hand on Morgan’s shoulder, looked him in the eye and said, softly, “Thank you. I don’t think I’ve ever heard it put like that before, but that really matters. To everyone in this room, right?”

He looked around and everyone nodded, with murmurs of “absolutely” and “definitely” being heard.

Moffat also nodded and looking at Morgan said, “Thank you. To hear it makes a difference to us. I’m so glad to hear you got something out of it, because I was just like you. I got the same things out of it as a kid.”

Moffat had a slight Scottish lilt to his voice, and it was quite melodious.

There was a silence for a moment, and then the moment broke when a self-important volunteer came bustling into the room and said, loudly, “Mr. Moffat? You are needed in the main stage. Interview time!”

The rest of the afternoon passed both quickly and slowly. Slowly, because April had a mission to achieve. A highly, highly desirable mission to achieve. She was looking forward to dinner and whatever else may come. And she was sure it was. She was sure it would if she had anything to do with it. She actually tingled in her loins when she thought about it, and blushed at people constantly all afternoon. She was smart enough to realize she was somewhat infatuated, but she was also professional enough to put away the little girl crush she was experiencing every time she realized it was happening.

But the time ticked quickly in other ways, - there was a LOT to do, people to hustle to appointments, rooms to prepare, banter to be had with various fans, and it required a constant eye on the clock and intimate knowledge of the schedule for everything. There many small fires to put out and questions to deal with, and the time went fast because of it. More than once, she idly wished she really did have a Tardis time machine, so she could double back and have several of herself running around at once.

But the evening came, and with it, the first time she could sit down, take of her heels and massage her sore feet. She’d been warned to get some gel inserts in her shoes and not heeded the message and here she was, with sore feet, as foretold.

And suddenly, there he was, beside her. She didn’t even have to go find him, he was there for her. She was sitting in the main lobby of the hotel, wondering where Chris was, and he just appeared, clutching a beer and a glass of red wine, for her. She just looked up at him, grateful and rueful at the same time, accepting the proffered glass, no words spoken.

He sat down and then nodded at the wine, “Thought you might want something like that? I took a wild guess, figured you were a red wine kinda girl?”

April laughed, took a sip and looked admiringly at him. “A merlot too? Well done, sir. My friend Megan and I keep trying to make plans to go to wine country in Napa, back home, but it just never seems to happen. Thank you.”

She gestured with the glass to him and he raised his own beer in response.

They just sat, in silence for a moment, April rubbing her feet and taking sips of wine, and Chris Morgan, watching her through lidded eyes.

“Wanna let me... ?” he said, gesturing at her feet.

“You sure?” she asked. “They’ve gotta be pretty ripe by now...”

“Let me deal,” he replied, putting down is beer and smiling, as he slipped out of his chair and knelt before her.

He put out his hands, asking for a foot, and she daintily pushed it forward, saying in a joking tone, “Okay, Buster, but don’t say you weren’t warned.”

And for the next ten minutes, April entered heaven. A good foot massage is a thing of beauty and joy, and when you’ve been on heels all day and are sore and tired, it was even more a thing of love. Chris expertly massaged her left foot, strong hands grasping her foot, massage the balls, each individual toe, compressing and stretching the ligaments in the top of her foot, and pushing on pressure points in the sole of the foot.

April just sat back, closed her eyes and groaned a lot. The thing about a good foot rub is that it can also act as foreplay and in April’s mind, there was no doubt that’s what it was. She was getting wet and she was sure he could smell her arousal.

When it came time to swap feet, she opened her eyes, and just gazed at Chris, who was intent on starting on the other foot. He was intent on what he was doing, tongue very slightly out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated on moving his hands over her foot.

April had taken a course in massage for one of her early missions, and she was very aware of the fact that what he was doing took training, - the general public are not aware of the way that the muscles work in a foot, nor the pressure points on the sole of the foot, but he was, and it was both tantalizing and also just plain delightful.

When he was done, he sat back, looked up at April and started to say, “How was th...” when April just dumped the wine glass on the side table and threw herself at him, grabbing his face and mashing her lips against his. There was no subtlety involved, it was an out and out passion kiss.

It went on, and he responded back, with equal passion, both oblivious to the fact that they were sitting in the lobby of a major Spanish hotel, surrounded by people and fans.

When they broke the kiss, April had one arm around his neck, and she kept it there, trapping him.

They both just looked at each other, in that way that new lovers do, where the rest of the world is totally excluded.

“Dinner?” Chris managed to croak out.

“I will need to eat,” husked April back at him, “ ... later...”

Chris smiled a broad smile at her and just stood up, April forced to come with him. With no more words spoken, April gathered up her jacket and shoes and, taking him by the hand, led Chris to the elevators.

By the time they got to her room, April was positively panting. She was in heat and she knew it. She’d never felt quite like this before, - she’d had amazing sexual experiences before, but they’d all been pure passion. This was too, but in a different way. This wasn’t just a mark, where she needed to do the best she could, this was a man where she wanted to make it the best she could. For him. For her. Because it was what she wanted, more than anything. And judging by the hardness in his slacks, so did Chris Morgan.

While she tried to get the keycard to her room out her pocket, Morgan’s hands were roaming all over her body, when he tweaked a nipple through her lacy bra, she moaned and arched, and almost fumbled the card out of her hands.

Eventually they tumbled into the room, and April wasn’t even really aware of the door closing, because it suddenly became the most important thing in the universe that she kissed this man, and kissed this man right now, as hard as possible, as long as possible.

Chris Morgan was equally excited. He was normally a sober man, aware of his surroundings and the people in them. Right then and there, there could have been a brass band in the room and he wouldn’t have noticed. He only had attention for this woman, and he couldn’t remember the last time that had happened. He’d never even been as hot for ... no, he wasn’t going to think about that now. Be in the here and now, because holy shit was she actually going to... ?

After slamming Chris against the now closed door and hungrily devouring his lips and tongue, April had decided she needed this man’s cock in her mouth RIGHT THEN AND THERE, and NOTHING was going to get in the way of that. This NEEDED to happen, and by god, IT WAS GOING TO. She was entirely carried away with her need, and the sober, calculating part of her mind observed with a wry smile, turning away and letting the lust have its head. So to speak.

She walked herself down his body, kissing each part as she went, till she was kneeling before him, her practiced hands unhooking his belt and unzipping his fly. She shoved his pants down, sufficient that his cock sprang out and flopped in her face almost, partially erect. He was of a decent size, she observed absently, circumcised, and with his hair trimmed back, for which she was grateful.

There was no subtlety in her desperation, - she pounced on his cock, opening her mouth and looking up at him looking down at her and she engulfed his cock in her extremely willing mouth.

For Chris, he felt his cock entering the warmth of her mouth and rather than slowly achieving erection, it was like someone had just stuck a syringe of adrenaline in him, - his cock sprang to attention instantly, hard as a steel bar. His seven and half inches zipped to attention and April made the most of it.

She gave him the passion blowjob of his life. Slobbering, licking, moaning as she did so. She was utterly on fire, and had one hand between her legs, fingering for all she was worth. She was dripping wet and actually physically dripping, - she could feel it dripping down the inside of her thighs. She’d been abandoned in sex before, but she’d never instigated it before, - this was a new one on her. The always-in-control woman, totally out of control. Definitely something that needed to be examined in more detail. Later.

Right now, she had a cock to consume and she was going to do it.

She deepthroated him a couple of times, but generally just went to town on his dick, sliding her lips and tongue up and down the shaft, stopping off to shove her nose into his balls, inhaling his heady unique musk, sucking each ball into her mouth carefully, rolling it around with her tongue, then exchanging it for the other one, then back to the shaft, paying special attention to the tip of his penis.

April was a past master cock sucker, - she had to be, for the work she was in, - but this experience was different. There was no clinical evaluation of his state, she was just in the moment, making it count.

Inevitably, Chris didn’t last too long. For what she knew, April had assumed it had been some time for Chris and she was right. All too soon, she felt his moans magnify and his balls subtly shift in their sack, indicating they were about to expel their precious contents.

She knew it was coming, and leant back slightly, face up turned, mouth open and tongue outstretched, just below the tip of his cock, gazing up into his eyes as he began the process of losing momentary control, his eyes fluttering up and his dick pulsing. She was rewarded with quite the spray of sperm, splattering both over her face and onto her tongue. At that exact moment, due to her fingers firmly on her own clit, she came too, making “urrrgg” noises, and shuddering throughout her body.

Chris finished convulsing, as his cock make the last pulsation, shooting the last ropy stream out, and he suddenly leaned back on the door, spent.

April came down from her high, and smiled, looking up at Chris. Slowly, she pulled her hand out from her own loins, and never breaking eye contact, she ran her fingers over her face, gathering up the errant jizz and spooning it into her mouth, determined not to miss any. She was determined to make this as memorable as possible for him, although she didn’t know quite why, - she’d already made her point. But for some reason that was not enough.

Chris gazed down at her, marveling in both her beauty, - she was positively glowing, - and her pure lust. It was not a look he’d seen in years, and even when he had seen it before, it had been more ... reserved, that he saw in April’s eyes. He’d not seen such yearning before, and it moved things inside him he thought were long dead.

When she was done licking up the cum on her face, the two of them just stared at each other, with a gaze that could penetrate molten lava.

Suddenly, April felt the moment move, and almost jumped. She looked around, and realized how she must look, - disheveled and not “the woman in control”.

“That was...” said Chris, hesitantly, groping for the right word, “ ... out of this world. April, you are one hell of a woman.”

Which, for April, was exactly the right thing to say at that precise moment. She beamed. Mission accomplished.

“Well,” she said, mischievously, “that’s what a girl likes to hear. Now, just so you know, that was an appetizer. Main meal is coming up, once we catch our breath.”

“Well ... Alrighty then!” exclaimed Chris, laughing. He liked this girl way too much, for knowing her two days.

April got up from her knees, took Chris’ hand, and kissed it, eyes full of promise. She wasn’t going to make him kiss her, - she knew that many men had issues with kissing a mouth that had just swallowed their semen, but to her surprise, Chris was having no part of that.

He grabbed her and gathered himself to her, molding her body against his, hungrily kissing her, not caring whatever taste he found in her mouth.

April was surprised, but this act just inflamed her even more. From going from wet, she went to positively gushing. April was not by default multi-orgasmic, - she didn’t go from orgasm to orgasm as some women did. Her orgasms were large, and body engulfing, and she needed time to come down from one before she could even think about another. That didn’t mean she couldn’t manage several in a night, just not one after the other. Until now.

She could feel herself moving towards that feeling again, just from Chris kissing her. She was astounded at her response, - this had never happened to her before.

She kissed back, hard, and when they broke apart again, both breathing heavily again, they just stared at each other again, silent, but full of promise.

April almost dragged Chris to the bed, and when she got there, she was dropping her panties as fast as she could wriggle out of them, sitting back on the bed, and pulling Chris in, pulling his pants and underwear down and off.

There was no pretense, - she was hungry and so was he.

For Chris’ part, he was astounded too. He was hard again. In the same way April was marveling at her response, so was he. He’d never gotten hard again so fast, but she was just So Sexy, So Desirable, and she was there, wanting him, urging him on...

Like earlier, there was no pretense, no teasing. She leaned back, spreading her legs as wide as she could, positively begging with her eyes, and Chris for his part, was not sporting wood. Nor was he ‘steel’, more like diamond. His erection right then could have battered down the door to Fort Knox, at least it felt that way.

He leaned over her, climbing on the bed, and without preamble, sank his cock into her willing, spread, red and very willing pussy.

It was like being engulfed in a tight sheath of wet molten velvet. It was hot and wonderful, and he couldn’t help groaning as his full length plunged into her.

Whatever he was feeling though, April felt twice. As he entered her, she came almost spontaneously, - another first for her. An abstract part of her considered, once she came down from the shuddering and the ‘la petite mort’, as the French considered it, where she lost all understanding of the world as the feelings mushroomed up inside her, that this was important. That in all the sex she’d ever had, and April decided when she was going to abandon herself to her own climax. She could hold it off till she decided the time was right, - that her partner got what he or she needed first. That she allowed herself to get there. But not with Chris, - it just happened, and she was pretty helpless to stop it. She never even considered trying to control it.

It was an emotional response she was simply not ready for, and as such, totally unable to control. Not that she wanted to.

Chris took his time. He’d already cum once, and he was in control and driving. April with writhing under him and if he was any judge, she’d already cum just from him driving himself into her the first time.

He wanted to make this last, and he did. Stroke after stroke, moving positions, trying out anything he could think of, - sideways, missionary, from behind. April was pushing back as much as he was thrusting, a true partner in the experience.

She was moaning and groaning and her hands were often wrapped around his buttocks, urging him to go deeper, pulling him in.

Inevitably, he felt himself starting to reach the point of no return. Thoughts of self-control or worrying about birth control were totally out of the window, there was only the moment, the two of them, and the syncopation that both of them felt. Both were in tune with how the other felt, what the other needed and no words needed to be said. The moment didn’t need to be enhanced because it was already all it could be.

Eventually, he erupted. And April did too seconds later, before he even had time to get soft, - her third of the evening and the second virtual simultaneous climax.

He felt his cum spurt out into her, at maximum extension, the best possible for a man, since it meant his sperm was being deposited as deeply as possible.

They were back in the missionary position at the time, and she was able to look into his face as he came. Instead of putting on his best porn face, and screwing his face up in his moment, he was looking intently into her eyes, watching her as he came and then she did, never breaking the eye contact between them. It was a profound moment for both of them. Something passed between them at that moment that both unsettled April and also thrilled her to her core. This man could touch her, inside. He could hurt her, if she allowed it. This was a new feeling to someone who had always been in control of every situation she could be. It would bear thinking about later, she decided. Away from his rather intoxicating scent.